


167 - Van: Chill AF & Not Easily Ruffled

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 08:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17403359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “A fic where there’s a day off from tour, you’ve been dating Van, and try to convince him to go to the MOMA/any contemporary art museum with you but he refuses to go so you take Bondy because you think Bondy would love some wild modern art (which he totally would as he made jokes the whole time). Maybe you try to get Van jealous with how much fun you had with Bondy.”





	167 - Van: Chill AF & Not Easily Ruffled

“I promise it's not just weird old paintings," you said in a beg. The glowing light of the rising sun was filtering in through the sheet. The sheet was your tent, and between it and the mattress, you watched Van roll his eyes.

"Too quiet in art galleries. Nobody to talk to," he replied.

"But I'm your girlfriend,"

"So?" he laughed, amused at your attempt to make him comply by stating your position in his life. Yes, you were his girlfriend. Yes, he loved you with all his heart. No, that didn't mean he would do everything you asked.

It was getting too warm under the sheet. The air had no room to breathe and neither did you. You ripped the sheet away and the brightness of the hotel room immediately hurt your eyes. Van screwed his eyes shut and buried his face into the pillows. You wriggled closer to him and kissed his bare shoulder.

"Please?" you asked again with another kiss. He shook his head. "Please?" Another kiss and another shake. "If you don't I'll ask Bondy to take me,"

"Is that, like, ya version of a threat, babe? 'Cause it's actually a good idea. He loves weird shit. He’s in the next room over," Van said.

"Art isn't weird shit!"

"See!" Van said sitting up. "This is why I shouldn't come. We'll just fight about it,"

"We're not fighting! Van!"

"Y/N! It's my day off and I just want to sit around and have a smoke and catch up with Larry," he said, grinning at you. It took a lot of self-control to not say that is what he did every day.

In the end, you got out of bed and put on the cutest dress you'd packed. Conveniently it was one that Bondy had complimented you on before. Van noticed. He narrowed his eyes at you and smirked. After putting shoes on and picking up your bag, you stood in front of him and put your hands on your hips.

"What?" you asked.

"You can stop tryna make me jealous,"

"Not,"

"Sure you're not. I trust you, Y/N. I trust John. Go have fun," he said.

It was annoying that he wouldn't buy into your childish efforts to make him just take you to the fucking art gallery. You were not usually a manipulative person and you never even flirted with anyone but Van. Therefore, why you were acting like that was inexplicable to you.

"Bye," you said in a sulky tone. Van laughed, but when you walked to door he sat up.

"Hey! Nah-ah! Come 'ere. Go ahead and be moody, but don't you dare leave without kissin’ me goodbye," he said. You looked at him. The window behind him was lighting his hair up. He was literally fucking glowing. You walked back over to the bed, and Van sat on the edge and pulled you to stand between his legs. You leant down and let him kiss you. You delayed the kissing back and he grinned at your continued childishness.

…

Bondy was the perfect date for an art gallery. He would lean in and whisper out conversations that he thought the subjects of the paintings were having. The conversations, naturally, were both hilarious and wildly inappropriate. When you found something that just got you, and you'd stand for too long unmoving and unnerved by the hurt and the beauty of the art piece, he'd let you do it. He didn't pace impatiently. He didn't pull at your sleeve to hurry. Bondy had an authentic interesting in art but lacked the pretentiousness that could ruin a trip to the gallery.

The gallery had a Tatsuo Miyajima exhibition. Created with mixed mediums and hundreds of LED lights, you walked through spaces that spoke of the inevitability of death and the human obsession with the countdown to it. Bondy's arms went around you when you stood in a room that was almost completely filled with a pile of ash and burnt things. A toy train on a track went around and around it. Little lights showed numbers, going backwards from nine. Before you read the sign you knew it was about genocide, about the war. It only took you a second of seeing it to know that and you cried instantly. You weren't the only crying person in the room.

Out of the exhibition, a member of staff said there were performance artists in the garden. You held back a smirk as Bondy gave you a look. Following him outside, you sat at the back and watched. There was a man lying naked on a table and he looked young enough that he was probably still in art school. People, other artists, would come to him and crack eggs on his skin, or draw shapes using edible substances. It was a metaphor and you understood that, but it didn't move you. It didn't provoke thought. It did, however, make you hungry. Before you could say that, Bondy was leaning in to you.

"Do you want to go get lunch? I suddenly have a desire to eat eggs and maple syrup and a dash of body-warmed soy sauce," he whispered.

…

Someone had brought a dog to sound check. As the roadies were setting things up and Benji was the focus, Van kneeled on the ground and patted the dog. He spoke to it in half-formed words and baby babble. You watched him as you walked across the space, arriving through the artists' entrance. Van looked up from the excited puppy when you and Bondy stood in front of him. Bondy's arm was around your shoulders. Van stood.

"Have fun?" he asked.

"Yes. Best date I've ever been on," you replied.

"She's seen a lot of freaky shit today, mate. Don't be surprised if she's pulling out a grocery bag before you get into bed," Bondy added. Van looked confused but unfazed.

"Glad you had a good time," he said with a shrug. Bondy let go of you. "Thanks for taking her," Van said to him. He nodded, kissed your cheek and walked away to find his guitar. Van pulled you into a hug. You squirmed.

"Vannnnnn," you whined.

"What? You're not still pissy are you?"

"Don't call me pissy!" you said and headbutted his chest. He laughed.

"Babe. If the shoe fits. See anything I'd like at the gallery?"

"Not telling. You'd know if you just went,"

"Wow," he said, laughing again and letting you out of the hug. "You remember that time you were talking to that lad with the ugly leather jacket? Think it was in Brighton maybe? I came and got you, told him to fuck off and everythin’, and you wouldn't talk to me for the whole night. Said if I was gonna be jealous and not let you do your own thing that you'd leave me?"

Yes. You remembered. You'd not been flirting with the guy in the leather jacket, despite him flirting with you. Regardless, you hadn’t like Van's accusatory tone and you didn't like being treated as property.

"I don't want you to be jealous,"

"Right. So what is this? What do you want?" he asked, his hands on your hips.

"Just… Wanted you to come with me. I'm on this tour with you 'cause you want. So… isn't it fair we do what I want on the days off?"

Van thought for a minute and while he did you stepped closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder. His arms snaked around you. You were used to him thinking before he replied. He used to try to speak and think at the same time but his words would come out all muddled up.

"Okay. Yeah. Didn't think of it like that,"

"Not all the time, you know? Sometimes I'll just want to sit around and smoke and sleep too. But, sometimes you have to do stuff that you don't care much about because I do. Yeah? 

"Yeah. Got it. We’re in New York next week. Don't they got that famous art gallery?" Van replied. You nodded into him. "Maybe we can do that, yeah?"

"Can Bondy come?" you replied. Van playfully pushed you away from him.

"Fuck you, Y/N," he laughed and turned away, looking around the room. "I'm gonna go find that fuckin' dog. You go hang out with your new boyfriend, yeah?"

You laughed and chased him out of the room and down the backstage hallway as he followed the barking.


End file.
